


Immortalis Medicus

by WolfaMoon



Category: Highlander: The Series, House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Immortals, Gen, Immortal House, Immortal Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfaMoon/pseuds/WolfaMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: House/ Highlander: Wilson teaches House a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immortalis Medicus

Immortalis Medicus

By: Wolfa Moon

Disclaimer: House/Highlander crossover. I do not own anything, just the idea. And if you want to continue on with this idea let me know. I don't mind. Just would like to read what you wrote. And maybe I'll continue or not. Have too many ideas running through my head. Please enjoy.

****There Can Be Only One****

House watched as Wilson went through the movements of his elaborate kata. Like a bird he swung the Viking Sword low and then up to the trees. The wind wrappimg around him. No sound being made as he moved through his paces. Years of practice, molding his body to the lethal weapon it is. Anger, jealousy, pity, regret. A storm of emotions ran through House as he watched his mentor go through movements that he once could do almost as perfectly. Now he was the broken bird being protected by the queen of mother hens. His teacher coming back to save his sorry head, again. In turn he could have gotten himself killed for his foolishness.

How could he do that to him? I have been so stupid. His thoughts making him feel younger than his years. House eyes remained glued to the dancing doe god in front of him. Such a pair we make.

Wilson let the wind blow through his water, transgressing him to be more fluid. He let the weight in his arm extend into him. It was him, he was it. The eyes he felt on him let his protective instinct simmer into a relaxing calm. Knowing his student was within reach of protection. Music seemed to flow into him suddenly at the comfort of the thought. Dancing to the beat of the wind, he flowed. Wilson finished up by pirouetting two times then ended with him kneeling down. His sword splayed out before him, hovering above the earth. No thoughts went through his head just the sense of existing. He is a part of this earth, a part of this time. He is who he is. And of current unwelcomed thoughts drifting to the present he remembered his role, I am James Edward Wilson, Doctor of Oncology. No longer the past: poet, warrior, ruler, child, slave, captain, husband. He is a healer. I am all and me.

House hung his head down low remembering his time before the tragic incurrence. Before he needed his guardian back in his life again. Then the blade came into his view. Startled out of his depressing revive by the intruder. What did he miss? Looking up he sighed in relief. Wilson stood there still shirtless in the pre-dawn hours holding his sword toward House's Adams apple.

"What?"

"Do I really have to tell you?" His voice accented with his true age. The blade didn't move from it's steady precise point of injury if inflicted.

"You going to take my head?" Wilson tilted his head. Maybe he would be the one, should be the one to finish him off. House's depressing thoughts sang again.

"No but I will kill you if you do not get up this instant."

"Then kill me." This is no game. House felt the prick of pain as the sword went though his heart. Shock didn't show on his face. Wilson was not fair when he trained, for the world wasn't fair. And he didn't hold back anything. House looked up as Wilson withdrew the blade. He could see already that he wasn't done when he woke up from his Styx ride.

Wilson watched as the body fell upon the lakeside grass. Wiping the blood on some nearby grass he started another exercise. It was cut short when a rustling of leaves caught his attention. Not letting his body show the disturbance he continued the motions he was practicing. The white coat flashed as it contrasted with the green lakeside. And the only one to know of their training location burred through the tree line.

"Good morning Allison." She looked at him then House's dead form.

"Didn't want to practice?" She seated herself on one of the surrounding rocks.

"I can only remain for so long and then he is on his own. He has to learn." He has to grow up.

"Have you told him that you're leaving?"

"No. I am being subtle." She gave him a look. As if that, yeah right look, would faze him. He smiled. "His kind of subtle." Wilson continued on through his régime. She smiled and only nodded. She is the watcher of House. Thoughts went to her watcher oath at Wilson's upcoming departure. Don't interfere.

"I see." Cameron eyes focused on his forest browns.

"You have a case?" Wilson finished his exercise. He relaxed letting his weight rest gently on his sword. Her eyes spoke to him of more information to be told. "And?" He could always tell when she had more to tell. She always wondered how. Explaining one day to her that she made a face that gave her away. Upon telling her this information and then tried to demonstrate the face to her. She stabbed him with an envelope opener. Smiling at the memory of early meetings, it is back to business.

"There is another immortal in the area." Don't interfere, the rule popped in her head again. Screw it. They saved her life. She saves theirs.

"Ok." Leaning his sword next to her, he retrieved his blue stripped suit shirt and put it on.

"Ok? What do you mean ok?" He began to button his shirt up. Wilson shrugged.

"You haven't told me the immortal so why the worry." Cameron rolled her eyes at him.

"Ok." She quickly reached for the piece of parchment in her pocket. She handed it to him without hesitation. She was use to his immortal age on the out. Wilson was a façade. A young man too smart and groomed of an older generation that this one didn't deserved. He fit in flawlessly. Wilson looked the paper over. The name was familiar but it held no danger, so he hoped.

"Nothing to be concern about." He handed her back her property. "Thank you." She took the paper and folded it into a small form to hide in her pocket.

"You sure?" He sighed.

"Of course. Immortals are a constant. We can either fight or talk. It depends on him." Wilson put one arm inside his suit jacket. Cameron watched as he became Dr. James Wilson. An interesting transition to watch from the mortal world. So many jackets he must have worn throughout the centuries. The face mildly changes. Walls behind the eyes go up to shield the past. Other doors open and let the light care hearted man come to the fore front. He smiled at her. She smiled back. The immortal was nice to her but she preferred Wilson more. He was kind where he was tough. Caring and loving, destroyer and fire-eater. This was a person you did not want to cross. Picking up his trench coat he slid his sword into it's hidden place. He always had extra weapons on him, somewhere. The older ones normally do. She has yet to learn his age. And he intended on it staying that way.

House awoke to the staginess of the world and a mouth full of moss. The pain dissipated and radiated at his chronic injury of his dilapidated leg. The injury wasn't an infarction. It was a fight gone horrible wrong.

A man maybe a 100 years his junior. But what a junior. This man was bread to fight. And all he did was to win. He also cheated a little. An old gas station was the scene. The junior made sparks with his sword setting the place ablaze. Trapping them inside. Burns healed with time just depended on how bad the burn. This was one of the bad times. House had won on a fluke of an old lesson drilled into his stubborn head. Many of deaths learned the maneuver well into his cranium. The quickening came and the walls crumbled. House's leg got trapped under one of the beams. He phoned his mentor for help. Wilson came. Cameron has yet to learn a truer name to Wilson then Wilson. She learned that House was once a Lieutenant George of the Royal British Navy. But that was a couple hundred years ago.

"You asshole." Wilson only shrugged.

"See you for Lunch?" Wilson was back in full appearance.

"You're paying." House began to slowly get up

"I always do." Wilson nodded politely to Cameron and headed back toward the hospital. Cameron watched as House began to get up.

"You should have practiced."

"You should learn to stay out of people's business."

"It's part of my job."

"Not your charm."

"Neither is it yours." She wondered if she should tell him to grow a back bone. Wilson wasn't staying forever. "He won't always be on speed dial you know." House looked at his damned leg in defeat. House realized she made a point. You either fought or you are dead. Look what happened to Methos. He gave up the sword. Preached a good word on leaving it all behind. Dead. Telling the story to Wilson had no effect on him. He just shuck his head. House thought back onto the look on Wilson's face. The son of bitch knew the real Methos. Anger fueled him at the memory. Adding more truth to his mentor's teachings. Someday he would not be there to watch over him. Who would protect him then. Only himself. 5 more years and this damn leg will be back to full capacity. So Wilson says.

Cameron watched as House got up. He moved to where Wilson once stood.

"You should head back." Cameron tilted her head to his unwavering statement.

"You gonna be ok?"

"Just taken wisdom into account." She smiled. He was finally seeing the big picture again. It would fade again when he arrived back at the hospital. Seeing his guardian close by he would relax too much and the procedure would start all over again. She wasn't one to fight progress. Someday she just wanted to cattle-prod his bum into action. But a little practice by himself for a little while. That was reward enough. He pulled the sword from his cane.

Watchers really didn't like to see their charge die. Especially the good ones. Cameron had approached Wilson on a watcher. He told her he had one once. And left that at that. She pondered about House and Wilson as she headed back toward the hospital. She keep wondering what would have happened if they hadn't saved her. If the two weren't together. What would happen to the dynamic duo? House liked to tell stories of the past. He is a good story teller. He told of how they were apart for a while. Wilson had married. And House was left to wander. If those two ever had to face off against each other. Cameron's thoughts became dark. Who would lay down their sword first? Who would make the first move? Who would win the prize?

Fall was starting.

The trees already changing into their beautiful hues.

That was not the only change coming.

That was not the one to worry about.

¿The End or To Be Continued?

*************************************************************  
AUTHOR NOTE: As I wrote in the disclaimer the idea is up for grabs or if people like tell. Might continue. I'm working on a follow up for my Hellboy one. Upon request, trying to make it good. And I have Magnificent 7 ones too. Sorry for the delay to that crowd. Writer's block, family, and other plot bunnies. Take care and keep writing.


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